06x12 - Spiral

[bunniefuu]

♪

(staple g*n f*ring)

(drill whirs)

Deadline was 24 hours ago.

Why am I still picking Ethernet cables out of my ass?

We're working fast as we can on a Saturday, Mr. Blanchard.

But we gotta work safe, too. It's...

Making money has never been safe.

Remember that, and someday you'll be the one giving orders to peons.

Callen: Right behind you, sir.

Ahead of schedule today, Jimmy.

Well, you said you like your mail early, Mr. Blanchard, so I figured I'd start my... my route on this floor every day.

You ever get sick of slinging letters, you let me know.

Guys, move it up on this side. Come on.

Worker: On this side?

Blanchard: Yeah. It's not even, guys.

Is this the color we talked about?

Worker: No, you know what?

It's the one we were given. I can't do anything...

Blanchard: Guys, it's not even straight.

Up on the left. Yeah, up on the...

(faint voices over earwig)

Dude's a regular Dale Carnegie.

Did Carnegie win friends and influence people by selling weapons to the Molina Cartel?

Blanchard's ready to promote you from the mailroom after two weeks of undercover work.

Maybe you should write a book, G.

7 Highly Effective Habits of Arms Dealers.

Sam: No, Think and Grow Rich by Supplying Mass Murderers with g*ns.

What do you weigh, Jimmy?

Blanchard: 170 pounds?

Maybe a buck-80?

Mr. Blanchard, I-I was...

It'd take 1.9 seconds for your body to hit the pavement after being thrown from the 19th floor of a tower... just like this one.

Sam: You got this, G?

What?

(g*nf*re)

(glass shattering, people screaming)

(woman screams)

(screaming continues)

Down on the ground!

Sit down!

What the hell is this?

Get over here!

This is me giving orders to peons.

Hands up, big sh*t.

Hands up! Put 'em where I can see 'em!

Easy, easy! Don't sh**t!

Shut up and move!

Keep going, keep going, move!

Move, move!

Shut up!

(static)

Let's go!

(shouting)

Move, move!

(crying): Please. Oh, God, please don't sh**t me. Okay? I'm sorry.

I said shut up!

All right? I'm sorry...

(screams)

(hostages screaming)

Man: Everybody, on in the back, now!

Negotiating's a bad idea.

You don't negotiate like me.

Get off me.

Man: Get back now!

Hey, buddy.

I don't think you know who I am.

We can cut a deal.

(g*nsh*t)

(screaming)

Aah!

You think that we can be bought?

This is our currency.

(g*nshots)

(hostages screaming)

♪ NCIS: LA 6x12 ♪
Spiral
Original Air Date on January 5, 2015

♪ ♪

(grunting)

Morning.

What's up, partner?

(Deeks grunting)

What are you wearing?

No training today?

I can't hold up the...

(grunts)

...Crush Crew all by myself.

Crush Crew... is in session.

(grunts)

Yeah, but just to clarify, you're not really crushing anything.

I'm meditating.

Ha! You mean you're sleeping.

Doctor's orders, actually.

I've got adrenal fatigue.

My body produces too much adrenaline and then runs out.

Yeah, but the Crush Crew lives on adrenaline, because we...

Oh, I see what you're saying.

Fighting bad guys, getting in car chases and sh**t every single week...

I just have to find a less stressful way of solving my problems.

(humming): Om...

Yeah, like training to crush bad guys with your mind?

Aah!

Ow, yah, God...

All right, that's a human resources violation.

I'm gonna fill out some forms, there's gonna be consequences.

You were in my energy sphere.

Ah, God, I love your metaphors so much.

It was an allegory, actually.

(clears throat)

Granger wants you both in Ops now.

It's Callen.

This just went online.

This is our currency.

(g*nshots)

(screaming)

We demand 100 freedom fighters be released from Guantanamo Bay or we sh**t a hostage every hour.

Unless you want to learn the true meaning of jihad, don't attempt any rescue.

Nell: The State Department received a list of the so-called "freedom fighters."

It's an all-star team of the most deadly t*rrorists in U.S. custody.

Run that back, Eric.

First casualty look familiar?

Yeah, that's Tom Blanchard, the arms dealer Callen's investigating.

That was supposed to be a routine op, though.

This "routine op" just turned into a hostage crisis.

Eric: Sam checked in from a pay phone.

I just confirmed that all comms inside the tower have gone dark.

Looks like they set up a jamming device.

Nell: A tower that big, we're probably looking at 15, 20 guys. Maybe more.

All right, the t*rrorists didn't ID themselves.

Most radicals would milk the exposure for all it's worth.

It's an anomaly.

This is a huge play none of the cells on our radar would be able to pull off.

So, suddenly, Callen's investigation becomes Die Hard and the person he's targeting becomes the first hostage k*lled?

I mean, either Blanchard knew these guys from before or that is a stunning coincidence.

Eric: Blanchard sold weapons to half the jihadists on the planet.

I'm sifting through his known associates, but it's gonna take some time.

Please tell me Callen is armed.

That's a negative.

Uh, Wyatt Tower's no Fort Knox, but they still have metal detectors in the lobby.

Manned by a rent-a-cop who didn't have the wherewithal to look inside the t*rrorists' toolbox when they came to work.

Where's LAPD in all of this?

Granger: They're waiting on us.

You and Deeks link up with Sam.

Find a way inside and locate Callen.

Gather Intel for LAPD's hostage rescue team before their breach.

We have less than one hour before they execute the next victim.

Yippee-ki-yay.

Woman (sobbing): I don't want to die.

Please stop.

Please, please... Please stop.

Man:Hey!

Hey, leave her alone!

(grunting)

Don't.

(grunts)

(hostages scream)

Man: Mall cop.

(groans)

You. Sit down.

(groans)

You okay?

Mm-hmm.

It's my chest.

Left side hurts.

Well, you might have broken some ribs.

Your lung's intact. You're gonna be all right.

Well, what a relief.

Mail guy says I'm gonna survive.

I'm Don.

Thanks for looking out.

I need to know if there's any weapons in this building.

Maybe a supply closet in the security office?

Who the hell are you?

I'm Jimmy the mail guy.

Management made this a "g*n-free zone."

We can't carry firearms on the job.

I'm so sorry, Don.

I'm so sorry.

Oh...

Any shortness of breath?

I'm fine.

Don't get macho on me, Don.

What's wrong, Karen?

You don't trust the mail guy's diagnosis?

I took an EMT class in college, all right?

Dr. Karen Ward.

Pleasure's all mine, Jimmy.

Ow.

Have I met you?

No.

You were too busy kissing Blanchard's ass to notice any other tenants on the 19th floor.

You're gonna be okay.

Just hold on.

Can I talk to you?

Woman: Let me look at you.

Are you okay?

Don's not gonna be fine.

I can't do anything about his internal bleeding.

I thought I'd keep his spirits up.

Got anything to keep my spirits up?

This isn't as bad as it looks.

Being taken hostage by Islamic radicals is my definition of bad.

Yeah, well, real radicals don't hang half their propaganda posters upside down.

Nice meeting you, Dr. Ward.

Only other entrances are sealed.

This one leads to a traffic cam blind spot.

That's ideal for a getaway.

They got two guards posted at the door.

Satellite phone. Should work.

Sat phones... it's hard for them to get a signal inside.

All right, so we dig up some Intel, and dangle me out the window.

I'll call it in.

Good luck with that.

(sighs) Let's move.

(grunts)

(grunts)

You got your adrenaline pumping yet?

A little more than that.

Deeks: Service entrance is clear.

Guys, we got a problem.

What'd you find?

It's a detonator switch.

Deeks: What?

Sam: Det cord, a lot of it.

Sam: Kensi?

Call off NCIS, FBI, LAPD, all the units in the city.

Call off all rescue attempts.

This building's been wired to explode.

Hetty cut her lunch meeting short.

She'll be here soon enough.

Where was lunch?

Nicaragua.

Bring me up to speed.

Well, Sam says the tower support beams have been rigged with expl*sives.

Geez.

Yeah.

Tactical breach could cause the hostage takers to panic, bring down the whole building. Even though it's a Saturday, there's still approximately 100 people inside.

And that's not factoring in possible casualties outside the tower if it collapses.

Restrict LAPD to evacuating the neighborhood.

Sir, who's gonna back up our team?

No one, Ms. Jones.

Defused b*mb's in the loading dock.

Rest could be anywhere in the tower.

All right, so LAPD is standing down until we give them the go-ahead to move in.

Foreman: Team Two missed their check-in. Find them.

I'm with the hostages on 16.

16th floor is unleased office space.

Kensi: The cameras have been disabled, elevators, too.

It's gonna slow down any attempt of a hostage escape.

Yeah, but the flip side of that is 23 floors is a lot of stairways to cover.

It means the guard duty is gonna be spread thin.

Infiltrate the hostage group.

Figure out what we're working with.

Avoid the east stairs.

They're closest to that service entrance.

On it.

Sam, where you headed?

To find Callen.

How do you know he's not with the hostages?

Because wolves never linger around sheep for long.

Let's go.

You think they're serious about executing a hostage once every hour?

They seem serious to me.

Where the hell have you been?

Two men down at the east service entrance.

Flex-cuffed, stripped of their radios and detonators.

We've got company.

Time to improvise.

Come with me. Let's go.

You, too, let's go.

Fresh Intel on Blanchard.

Looks like credit card records over the past two weeks turned up some hits we didn't get in our initial profile.

Great.

I was just about to update my blog on dining and shopping hot spots for the high-end arms dealer.

Well, here we go.

Tiffany's, Spago, Beverly Wilshire Hotel, La Perla.

Either he liked jewelry, fine dining and wearing lady's lingerie...

Or Blanchard had a girlfriend.

One who liked $800 panties.

"Panties"?

Yeah, I've heard about La Perla.

Okay, well, they're not $800.

Oh, how do you know that, Ms. Jones?

How do you think I'd know, Mr. Beale?

I'm gonna... mine Blanchard's phone logs and, um, see if I can have some agents bring his girlfriend to the boatshed for questioning.

You do that.

I'll let Granger know.

Okay.

Tell me you know something.

There's nothing on the cameras.

Whoever it is, they're good.

Probably a two- to-four-man group.

Pull our men from 16.

I want teams grid-searching this entire building.

Who's gonna watch the hostages?

Send in Crom.

That was all too easy.

There's hardly anybody watchdogging the hostages.

(sighs)

We got this.

Kensi: Okay, that guy might become a problem.

At least he's not bulletproof.

Uh-oh.

There's enough C-4 in that vest to vaporize everybody in here.

(beeping)

And that's a dead man switch.

(beeping)

It's connected to the expl*sives lining the walls and support beams.

Colossus takes his finger off that button, and this whole building becomes a pile of rubble and bodies.

Looks like he's bulletproof after all.

Anything in the financials?

No. If Blanchard knew, we'll never find out.

You k*lled him too fast.

Don't question my orders.

You can be a hostage, too.

All you got to do is say the word.

I got plenty of b*ll*ts.

You, back to work.

Karen: Don't touch me!

Stop it!

Please, please, please, I can explain.

Man: Sir.

What is this?

She slipped away from the others.

We caught her trying to get away.

No, I wasn't trying to escape.

Listen, just let me explain.

Foreman: Get that camera running.

(whimpering)

Karen: Please, there is something you need to know.

Callen: Stop! It was my fault!

Boy, you sure get around for a mail guy.

I-I convinced her to sneak out and find a working phone.

It was my idea.

She had nothing to do with this. It was all my fault.

D-Don't hurt her.

I guess I'll just have to k*ll both of you.

Karen: Jimmy!

(g*nshots)

Go, go, go, go!

Two of them got away.

One of them was in charge.

There was a woman.

Karen.

She ran.

She was scared; can you blame her?

I hope she ran fast.

Well, on the bright side, I figured out my New Year's resolution.

I'm never going undercover as Jimmy the mail guy again.

Jimmy the mail guy went postal.

They're not real jihadists.

They didn't even take the time to detonate their su1c1de vests.

They still rigged the building to blow.

Then we can't call their bluff.

Blanchard's financial records.

He was targeted.

Had something they wanted.

This whole hostage thing could be one big ruse.

Foreman: Two sh**t in the boardroom.

All teams move in.

I want them dead now.

They're sending in the cavalry.

Then let's go hunting.

Foreman: Everybody to the 23rd floor.

23rd floor.

Guys, we got to go.

Crom, stay here.

Go!

Kensi: They're getting skittish.

They're moving manpower a lot faster than they should.

Sam must have found Callen.

Well, the good news is there's only one t*rror1st watching the hostages.

And the bad news is he's a walking WMD.

(sighs)

There's got to be a way to disarm the wiring in the support beams.

I would take a closer look at the wiring, upload some pictures to Ops and see if they got someone to walk me through the disarm.

Okay, go now, go now.

You gonna wish me luck?

(grunts)

(wire clicks)

(gasps)

(indistinct shouting)

(rapid g*nshots)

Keep it moving!

Sit your ass down.

(shutter clicking)

♪

Yes, I dated Tom Blanchard.

No, I didn't really like him.

Well, speaking ill of the dead ain't a great way to make a first impression, Ms. Welsley.

I didn't like Tom, but most people despised him.

So it was actually a compliment.

Why was he despised?

Everyone despises success if it's not their own.

He got rich selling weapons to drug cartels and sex traffickers.

You didn't know that?

I know the places he took me and the gifts he bought me.

I know I make plenty of money on my own, but getting courted by a mysterious man?

It's always a fun ride.

Well, it says here you were Blanchard's real estate agent.

Yeah, met him about a month ago.

He was looking for office space.

He ever mention his work?

Project he was working on?

Deal he was looking to close?

No.

Tom never talked about his work.

But you're not sad.

I guess I'm more... chilled.

Tom coveted that office and then he d*ed there.

(chuckles) He was a classic pain-in-the-ass client.

The only lease he'd even consider was that exact spot.

Wyatt Tower?

No, even more specific than that.

He had to have an office on the 19th floor of Wyatt Tower.

(line ringing)

Eric: The only other business on the 19th floor of Wyatt Tower is Gamma Grade Pharmaceuticals.

They maintain a storage lab right next to Blanchard's office.

Now, why would a La Perla-buying arms dealer move right next door?

Let me call Callen and Sam.

Automated voice: Satellite signal unavailable.

The customer you are trying to reach is out of service range.

Satellite signal unavailable.

Great.

Damn.

Come on, baby.

Come on.

Come on.

Damn it.

Yeah, that's a terrible idea, let's do that.

Come on.

Come on.

Man: Check that one.

Man 2: Yeah.

Son of a bitch.

All right.

Come on, baby.

Come on, technology.

Hey.

Are you okay?

Yeah, I'm okay.

Bastard's got to weigh 270 pounds.

I was thinking more 280.

You got sharp eyes there, Don.

Put in 18 years at the Detroit PD.

Moved to L.A. for the weather.

This happened on my watch.

This isn't your fault.

These guys are professionals.

You are, too, I reckon.

You're too squared away to be LAPD, so I figure some kind of Fed.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

Listen, I understand you can't tell me.

Just know that I'm here to help.

Anything else those sharp eyes see that I should know about?

Yeah, big man limps slightly.

Probably an old football injury.

Blew out his right knee, never healed properly.

Thank you.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

The rest of the floor's clear.

Don't know where else they could be.

(phone rings)

(phone rings)

What the hell?

Thought we jammed all the phones.

Check that out.

It's a timer.

It's not an incoming call.

(screams)

This one's still alive.

Who are you?

This wasn't what we thought.

What was "this" supposed to be?

Corporate hostages, corporate ransom.

Get in, get out.

What about Blanchard?

They didn't tell us.

This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

Northern Irish.

It's an Ulster brogue.

(phone rings)

Damn it, there's barely a signal. Eric?

Eric (broken connection): Sam.

Signal's cutting out.

Eric?!

I've got new Intel.

Gamma Grade Pharmaceutical...

19th floor storage lab...

Blanchard's been targeting it all along.

Roger. I'm gonna try to upload a pic for facial rec now.

Let's go.

Whew.

(line ringing)

Oh, my God.

Nell: Deeks?

Nell?!

(breaking in and out): Nell... hear me...

Deeks, is that you?

(phone beeps)

Can you hear me now?!

Yeah, roger that, we can hear you.

(laughs)

Hey, I'm uploading some pics.

I need you to, uh... oh, my God.

I need you to walk me through a disarm.

We got some expl*sive wire.

I'm on it.

Man: Check it.

(door opens)

Son of a... okay.

Man: You hear the traffic?

Someone sh*t out a window here.

Man (over radio): I need backup on 21.

We're losing too many men.

(with brogue): Forget this.

We got to move.

Only one of us needs to get out of here alive.

You remember that.

Sir...

Don't nag me about the bloody accent.

It's a little late for that now.

(watch beeps)

Tool's almost rebooted.

We can get back to work in a few minutes.

Right.

Let's go.

(phone buzzes)

Oh, nice work, Nell.

Sam: Clear.

Clear.

Sam: This is a serious piece of hardware.

Looks like someone tried to bypass the biometrics with brute force.

It was working.

They're just waiting for the diamond drill bit to cool down so they can come back and finish the job.

I saw this type of glass years ago at a basement in Langley.

It's a palladium micro-alloy.

Chemically-sealed metallic glass.

It's a dead end, G.

(door beeps)

Thanks for saving my life, Jimmy.

Name's not Jimmy.

It's Callen.

Is that a first or last name?

It's a long story.

Why are you here, Karen?

I work here.

Not during a hostage crisis.

Why'd you risk your life to come back?

I know why they seized the tower.

From the moment it happened, I knew it could only be one thing.

When they caught me sneaking out, I wasn't trying to escape.

I was trying to make it back here.

We're federal agents, we need to know what's here.

It was supposed to be a vaccine.

I helped create it.

I'll die before I let anyone take it.

Gamma Grade was developing a vaccine, then there was an accident along the way.

Instead, they got a virus.

I wish it was only a virus.

It's a bioweapon.

Nell: Dr. Ward's story checks out.

Gamma Grade Pharmaceuticals reported that their vaccine research went wrong.

Project's in-house name was "SPIRAL."

Eric: They were scheduled to deliver all 25 vials of SPIRAL to the CDC tomorrow morning.

The heist had to go down today.

Blanchard had sources.

By the time the news about SPIRAL reached the CDC, could have been a dozen leaks.

Nell: Well, thanks to the photo you sent us, we have a pretty good idea of who he was working with.

Name is Liam Boyle.

He's suspected of two unsolved murders on behalf of the Celtic Militia.

They're a fringe sect that broke off from the Irish Republican Army in 2011.

Why'd they split?

The IRA deemed the Celts "too radical."

So Blanchard had a buyer for SPIRAL, but then they turned on him.

Cut out the middleman, went for the heist instead.

Threw up a jihadist smoke screen to cover their tracks.

We can't allow SPIRAL to leave that lab, gentlemen.

How bad is it?

Think Ebola on steroids.

Be more specific.

After exposure, it's fatal within 72 hours.

But unlike Ebola, SPIRAL's an airborne contagion.

It can be passed on like the common cold.

Any word from Kensi and Deeks?

They're gonna make a play at disarming the expl*sives threatening the tower.

Well, we did send Deeks to that EOD course at Quantico last month.

How'd he do?

You failed that EOD test at Quantico last month.

That was just practice.

Deeks doesn't even show up until game day.

I got this.

Just make sure Bane's looking the other direction.

Oh, really?

And who has your back while I'm doing that?

His buddies could show up through the door any minute now.

I can help.

You can help? Who are you?

I'm head of security.

I know everyone in this room.

I owe them this much.

I just need, like, 90 seconds.

I'll cover the door.

Get back!

Everyone, back!

Get back!

(groans)

Oh, my chest.

Oh, God.

Oh, my God, I need some air.

Don?!

(groans)

Don!

Oh, my God.

Don't! Stop right there!

Sit down!

Sit down!

(groaning): My chest.

I think he's having a heart att*ck.

He needs help.

No one moves!

Or I'll blow this place up!

Woman: Do something, please!

All right-- red, yellow, black, right?

Is it yellow, red, black?

What are you just standing there for? He's dying!

Can you just do something?!

Yellow, red, black. Yellow, red, black. Yellow, red, black.

Son of a bitch.

Trust your training.

Come on, baby.

Oh, thank God.

Get back in there with the others!

I was briefed on the plane.

Good, because I need to make a call...

I disagree.

You didn't even let me finish.

You need to call SECNAV, right?

And tell her about SPIRAL.

Then SECNAV will call the White House, and they'll scramble F-35s to incinerate that virus with Hellfire missiles.

There is a bioweapon inside that tower.

Neutralizing SPIRAL means sacrificing everyone in there.

I know.

Then, what do you disagree with?

It's my team in the tower, Owen.

And if anyone is going to make that phone call, I am.

How long would it take you to get rid of every vial of SPIRAL?

Uh, longer than you think.

It's not like tossing out the trash.

(clattering)

Man: Move it now!

They're coming.

Don't bother.

Another five minutes of drilling, they'll be inside anyway.

You want to leave it open?

Destroy as many vials as you can.

We'll take care of the rest.

Crom: That's enough!

Back to the other room now, you heard me!

expl*si*n chain defused.

Get out of the way!

Okay, sir, please don't k*ll me. Sir.

Quit whining, old man!

Please.

Let's make sure that su1c1de vest doesn't take out the whole floor.

Crush Crew on deck?

Mm-hmm.

Rock and roll.

One, two, three.

(g*nsh*t)

Don: Hey!

(beeping, screaming)

Was that Crom?

Focus on SPIRAL.

Wait.

The door's already open.

(g*nshots)

Call it in before an F-35 drops a b*mb on our heads.

(line ringing)

Sam?

Sam, we've been trying to reach you.

I've got some new Intel... SPIRAL is secure.

I say again, SPIRAL is secure. We're good.

I'll tell Hetty and Granger.

Phew.

For a moment there, I thought you guys were going to, uh...

What's the other Intel?

Um, yeah.

Dr. Karen Ward.

She's worked at Gamma Grade for the past two months.

Uh, facial rec on her Wyatt ID card shows a near match to a woman arrested at a Celtic Militia protest in Ulster four years ago.

Sam? Sam?

(with brogue): Looks like your partner's figured some things out, Jimmy.

Put the case down, or there's gonna be three dead bodies in here.

Good lads.

But expendable.

sh**t me, and SPIRAL kills everybody in this building.

They weren't even told about my role.

Never knew their real mission was buying me enough time to get out.

Sam: G.

G?

We're all expendable.

Just some of us are more expendable than others.

Sorry, Jimmy.

(coughing)

Finish it.

(coughing)

You all right?

(groans) You okay?

Yeah, I survived.

You just saved everybody here.

You know that, right?

(sighs)

What I know is that... whatever agency you work for owes me free drinks for life.

Yeah, well, the first round's on me.

Let's get you against the wall.

Thank you.

Kensi: Everyone's doing okay?

(groans)

So, I shut off the jamming systems.

Communications are back online, and, uh, LAPD is pulling up now.

(phone rings)

Nice work.

Sam?

Kens, I need a CDC unit for Callen on the 19th floor now.

Nobody leaves this tower.

I want the ground floor locked off.

LAPD is on it. Where are you?

The roof.

(g*nshots)

(helicopter blades whirring)

Sam: Drop the case!

(grunting)

He didn't even think twice about locking himself inside.

You'd have done the same thing.

All of you.

I didn't think it would end like this.

I've seen the end, Mr. Hanna.

This is not the end.

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

(indistinct announcement over P.A.)

Woman (quietly): You can see quite an improvement just in the last two days.

Right here, if you look on the chart.

Where are we?

Excuse me.

(sighs)

Druid Hills, Georgia.

CDC headquarters.

How...?

Blanchard told the Celtic Militia about SPIRAL.

He didn't tell them Gamma Grade Pharmaceuticals already had an antidote.

Can't sell a bioweapon with a cure.

He tried to double-cross them, but Karen's people crossed him first.

Everyone okay?

Yeah.

The last thing I remember seeing back there was Hetty.

And now...

I wake up and... here you are.

All those things I thought I regretted, you know... your singing in the car, pretending to like Michelle's Sunday night casserole.

I can sing, G.

Don't make me prove it.

I will fill the CDC halls with the sound of music.

I regret giving up on believing that I might meet my dad someday.

You still got time.

Life's too short to regret.

Thanks, Sam.

For what?

For making sure I didn't wake up in Druid Hills, Georgia alone.

That's what family's for.

Also for not following through on your thr*at to fill these halls with the sound of your voice.

Don't thank me for that because I'm warmed up, baby.

No.

(clears throat) Yeah, yeah, I'm so warmed up right now.

No.

♪ I...

Deeks: Om...

There it is.

That's right. That's it.

What?

I'm feeling it.

Feeling what?

Zen, baby, and I like it.

You're disgusting.

What?

Why do you have to bring sex into everything?

I don't know what you're talking about with sex.

I'm talking about Zen.

I'm talking about being one with the universe here.

"Zen," he says. Zen?

I think I know a metaphor when I hear one.

Oh, you'll know my metaphor when I whip it out.

And there it is again.

Deeks: I don't know what you're talking about.

(Eric clears throat)

Hi.

This is not what it looks like.

What does this even look like?

You know exactly what this is.

Kensi loves whipping out her metaphor.

Nell (chuckles): Okay. Well... good news is, Callen is going to make a full recovery and he should be home soon.

That's wonderful. That's great news. That's awesome.

Hey, have you ever tried group Zen?

I'm sorry, what?

I love group Zen.

Do you?

Shall we?

We shall.

This might get sweaty with multiple partners.

Please stop saying things that I can't un-see.

(sighs, sputters)

That's a weird way to start it.

Oh, yeah, I'm in the mood.

I'm totally feeling it.

How you feeling, Kens?

I hate you a lot.

Yeah, but it's opposite day so you love me.

Om...

(Kensi sighs, clears throat)

All: Om...