03x22 - Neighborhood Watch

[bunniefuu]

♪

Sugar bear?

Ah.

Hey.

Good morning, sleepyhead.

I thought you were going to wake me up.

I was going to, but then you were doing that cute little twitchy thing with your nose.

I have a tendency of doing that when I'm happy.

Aw.

You eat?

Uh-uh.

I'm starving.

Make your wife some pancakes.

Ow!

Get in there.

(camera shutter clicking)

♪ NCIS: LA 3x22 ♪

Neighborhood Watch
Original air date on May 8, 2012

♪

VIRTUAL TRAINER: Turn that punch over.

(Callen grunting)

Keep your core stable.

(bell dings)

Great job.

(panting)

Who's next?

Looks like your new toy took you down.

Do not mock the Nexersys system.

Thing'll kick your ass.

A faceless avatar?

I'm old school.

No way a computer can give you a better workout than a real sparring partner.

Oh.

State-of-the-art technology.

(chuckles)

More advanced than a human.

Okay.

All right, let's get locked and loaded.

Bend those knees.

Lead kick, power kick.

Get your feet going.

Jab cross.

Lead dig.

Power dig.

Nice snap in those strikes.

Nice combo.

Hate to break up the Real Steel match, but Hetty needs you up in Ops.

One more round.

Okay, but she said...

This will just take a second.

Okay, Sam, let's take this up to the next level.

Let's do it.

Advanced level.

Jab cross.

Lead dig.

Power sweep.

(distorted): System error.

Impressive rotation on that sweep, Mr. Hanna, but I suggest you move your feet right up to Ops.

You, too, Mr. Callen.

Tried to warn you guys.

Nice job.

DEEKS: And then she put her darks in with my whites and now all my clothes are purple, so I look like Barney the dinosaur.

I mean, what husband can put up with this?

This marriage is doomed.

KENSI: No, no, this marriage is doomed because you are OCD.

DEEKS: What do you mean, because I like to clean?

At least I'm not the one that took a desk chair and dragged it over the carpet to make tracks so it looks like I vacuumed. I mean, honestly, who does that?

HETTY: You two have really gotten into playing the role of a married couple.

Very authentic, right down to the bickering, but don't forget, one of your neighbors is a Russian sleeper agent.

What's the latest?

Well, everyone's bought our cover story that we are house-sitting for my Uncle Mark while he's on vacation.

Eric, could you please roll the surveillance tape?

As you can see, we've been able to plant additional cameras in the neighborhood.

DEEKS: So far all we have is fairs and a near homicide at a designer sample sale.

Evidently those ladies go crazy for their Cavallis.

So who's left to investigate?

Number one: Floyd Hobbs.

Grumpy retiree who lived in the community for 30 years.

Word is that he gave out actual rocks last year at Halloween.

(laughs)

KENSI: Down the street from him is Serena Miller.

No husband, no boyfriend.

Rumor has it, she went through a nasty breakup, now spends most of the time by herself.

KENSI: Ah, the little rug rats-- the Felton boys.

DEEKS: Otherwise known as birth control for the entire neighborhood.

KENSI: And that is Jane Felton-- their mother.

I have only said hello in passing.

Rob and Bob are in the convertible-- or as I like to call 'em, Brob.

They've owned the local bakery for the past ten years.

And last but not least, we have Brett Turner and his fiancée Polina Grafetta.

Aka the neighborhood hotties.

We scored an invite to dinner at their house tonight.

And I'm still trying to find the whereabouts of our missing Russian businessman Mikhail Kroyov.

ERIC: Who happens to be the only solid link we have to the sleeper agent, we believe is living in the gated community.

Unfortunately Kroyov vanished before he could give up the sleeper agent's name, but we have footage of him at an ATM ten days ago.

Oh.

Oh, my God.

Yes, please.

(all murmuring)

What the hell?

Whew.

Uh...

This is not...

(laughs)

I don't know where, why...

That's, um...

I think I was hacked, so...

Here's, uh, Kroyov's photo.

(clears throat)

Kroyov's claims of a sleeper cell have been taken very seriously by the DOD, particularly since the exposure of the Russian spy network in New York two years ago.

SAM: The agent has to have other contacts outside of the community.

Maybe it's time to visit my old friend Arkady, see if he's heard anything on the street.

By all means, call in all your favors, gentlemen.

A-A word with you two.

So, about what just happened...

Too soon.

Got it.

Wow.

May I offer you a cup?

Lapsang souchong from the Wuyi Hills of China.

No, thank you.

Yeah, no, I'm good, I actually prefer my tea in a bottle vacuum-sealed in America.

Why do I feel like we've been called into the principal's office?

Have you done something wrong?

Well, that could be a trick question.

No, we've done nothing wrong.

Not that we know of.

Have we?

Well, then...

When two agents are forced to live together undercover as man and wife, it's only natural that the situation could bring about unfamiliar feelings and emotions.

You don't think that we're...?

I mean, that he and I...?

(laughing)

Not in a million years.

Okay, that's enough.

You don't have to insult your husband.

I'm simply saying that such an intimate assignment can impact the judgment of even the most professional agents.

You are up against a highly trained Russian sleeper agent who will protect his own identity at any cost.

You need to be at the top of your game.

Right.

That's absolutely true.

I understand, top of the game...

But I always feel...

Hey, sorry to interrupt, but I think you'll want to see this.

ERIC (sighs): We found Mikhail Kroyov, our link to the sleeper agent.

This video was taken at the Beverly Regis less than an hour ago.

Do we know where he went when he left the elevator?

Actually, he never left the elevator.

ERIC: A bellboy found Kroyov a few minutes later.

So the only connection we have to the sleeper agent is dead.

(g*nsh*t)

(sighs)

Honey, I'm home.

KENSI: In the kitchen.

What smells good?

Wow.

What do you, what do you got there?

Snickerdoodles.

Are they edible?

Hey.

What? You're not exactly known for your cooking prowess.

Okay, this is happening.

That and the fact you tried to put tinfoil in the microwave last week.

I found a very easy Martha Stewart recipe online.

Really, Martha Stewart?

Ah, ah, ah.

Ow, really?

Any update on Kroyov?

Yeah, he was injected with a fast-acting toxin.

No I. D. on the k*ller.

It sounds like our sleeper agent woke up.

Yep.

Wait a minute, what are you, what are you doing?

Where are you going?

This is for the old man in 534.

I figured he's lived here forever, probably knows everything that goes on.

Only thing is, he doesn't like people.

Wait, so your plan here is to ply him with your abundance of...

Cookies?

Snickerdoodles.

Uh-huh.

Don't you have a jacket or something?

I don't need the whole neighborhood checking out my wife.

(door opens)

(chuckles)

Martha Stewart my ass!

(door closes)

SAM: You suppose Hetty gave Kensi and Deeks the talk?

CALLEN: What talk?

You know, the talk she gives when agents go undercover as a couple.

Must have missed that one.

She never gave you the "intimate undercover assignment" talk?

"Unfamiliar feelings and emotions""

None of this rings a bell?

Nope, guess she thought I was too professional to need it.

Probably thought no one would get close enough to you to have to worry.

What, are you saying that I'm cold and distant?

Let's just say, if you had an online dating profile...

Which I would never do.

Probably wouldn't hurt if you did.

But I don't... (rings doorbell)

But just for argument's sake, if you did...

There's no argument about it.

I would never do that.

I don't think that my soul mate is a mouse-click away.

Whatever.

(sighs)

So you're not gonna tell me now?

This.

This is exactly what I'm talking about.

I don't know what you mean.

I know. Trust me.

I know.

Dobroye utro, my friends.

What a surprise.

You're looking well.

Well, my doctor told me to lay off latkes, join gym.

I'm miserable.

But you're not here to talk about my health. What is it?

A man was k*lled today.

Russian businessman.

Mikhail Kroyov.

Don't know him.

CALLEN: Yeah?

Maybe you know some of his friends.

Here are some DMV photos.

Bob Wright and Rob Nelson.

Brett Turner and Polina Grafetta.

Serena Miller.

Jane Felton.

You know her?

She resembles my ex.

CALLEN: Which one?

The one who recently passed, God rest her soul.

Aren't they all dead?

I do not have best luck with women.

Think how they feel.

I do not like him.

Just answer the question.

My last wife, Natasha.

This woman...

They could be sisters.

Is she married?

Sorry I cannot help you.

Guy's hung up on his ex.

I know for a fact he hated Natasha, and she looked nothing like Mrs. Felton.

She was a six-foot tall former Miss Ukraine.

Why would he lie?

He definitely reacted when he saw these photos.

Let me see them again.

(sighs)

Maybe he was reacting to this woman, not to Mrs. Felton.

"Serena Miller."

(phone ringing through)

ERIC: Hey, Callen.

Eric, pull up everything we've got on Mrs. Felton and Serena Miller.

Yeah.

Mr. Hobbs?

Mr. Hobbs, my name is Melissa Waring.

We're house-sitting down the street for my uncle.

I just wanted to introduce myself.

Well, okay.

It's all right if you're busy.

Maybe another time.

I made you some cookies.

I'm gonna leave 'em here on your doorstep.

Okay, enjoy.

(car engine starting)

(door closes)

It's a start.

NELL: Hey, guys.

Toxicology report's back on Mikhail Kroyov.

He d*ed of a concentrated cocktail of sodium thiopental, pancuronium bromide and potassium chloride.

Injection point was the arm.

Where the guy in the elevator touched him.

Anything on Jane Felton?

She's a stay-at-home mom.

Checks all the boxes, nothing unusual.

What about Miller?

Mm, Serena Miller-- she's single, never married, lives alone.

She works as a loan officer at the Certified National Bank downtown.

It's a good gig for a sleeper agent.

Access to personal information and cash.

Mm.

Keep digging.

Roger that.

So, I'm on, uh, Romancing-The-One.com Same as you. Kind of a funny coincidence.

Ah.

Um, my-my user name is GeekToys82, in case you're bored, and want to, you know, look it up and...

Yeah.

...check it out.

(sighs)

Let's get back to work.

That's a great idea.

Okay.

Okay.

Hey, Justin?

Mm-hmm.

What's this?

Is that a trick question?

What is my bra doing in your sock drawer?

I plead completely innocent, but totally intrigued.

Look, you are really testing the boundaries here, buddy.

Boundaries?

What are you talking about?

We're married.

There are no boundaries.

What's mine is yours, and what's yours is mine.

No, no, boundaries are what make a marriage work.

Particularly when it comes to sharing a bed.

Yeah, about that-- I prefer to sleep on the right side.

No. We've talked about that.

I can't sleep unless I'm on the right side.

Actually, you kind of sleep in a diagonal, like a starfish, with your arms out like this.

You're kind of taking up all four quadrants of the bed, but I'm okay with that.

You want to know why? 'Cause I don't care about boundaries.

So, if my wife wants to spend the whole night hogging the whole bed, snoring in my ear like an animal, I'm cool with it.

Hey, I do not snore.

No, it's more like a... like a snort-snore.

It's kind of a... (snorting)

I do not do that.

It's like a piglet.

What?

(computer beeps)

KENSI: Like you don't snore.

DEEKS: All right, Brett Turner's background checks out.

I don't know. There's something still off about this guy.

Is someone jealous?

Jealous of what?

I don't know. His chiseled features, lean body, bulging biceps.

I don't need to hate.

I got my own thing going on.

(phone beeps)

Yeah, go ahead, Eric.

ERIC: Hey, I got an update on Serena Miller.

According to her boss, she's on vacation in Florida.

Has been for the past week.

Okay, well, then, either her boss is lying to us, or she's lying to her boss, because I just saw her drive down the street in her BMW.

(birds singing)

(gasps)

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Okay, please, please put the g*n down.

My name is Melissa.

I'm just house-sitting next door, and-and I heard a scream, so I came in here to see if everything was okay. Please.

Please put the g*n down.

DEEKS: You need backup?

Yup.

(car alarm sounds)

(gasps, grunts)

(grunts)

(grunting)

(grunting)

(grunting)

(grunting)

(sighs)

(groans)

(panting)

Get up!

(groaning)

Slowly.

(groaning)

So much for backup.

(groaning)

Special Agent Blye, NCIS. That's Detective Deeks, LAPD.

Who are you?

I want protection.

You pulled a g*n on a federal agent.

I thought you were one of them.

One of who?

Give me protection, and I will tell you everything.

I'm not giving you anything until you tell me who you.

My name is Serena Miller.

And your real name?

Nadya Borzov.

A man named Mikhail Kroyov was k*lled today.

I had nothing to do with that.

Then who did?

My handler.

He-he suspected Mikhail was a traitor.

We are not safe here.

He knows I want out.

He's gonna send other people, other agents...

Just like he did with Mikhail.

Who's your handler?

No more until you guarantee me protection.

I don't want this life anymore.

Please. I want a normal life.

A family.

I can't guarantee anything, but I can take you someplace safe.

I'll use her car, take her to the boatshed.

You run interference.

I'll meet you there.

Move.

(barking)

Down, Chewie.

Bad dog!

(scoffs) Oh.

Oh! I'm so sorry.

He gets excited every time he sees a cute guy.

(Chewie whimpers)

You're very naughty, but you have excellent taste.

(laughs)

Oh, sorry.

I'm-I'm Bob Wright.

I live right over there.-

Hi.

Uh, Justin Waring.

I'm house-sitting.

Oh, I know.

Yeah, yeah.

For the Colonel.

I've seen you around the neighborhood with that brunette with the legs that don't quit.

Sister? Friend?

Uh, she's... wife.

Ooh. All the good ones are always taken.

Speaking of the missus, I... I really got to run.

Oh, yeah.

Sure. Hey, uh, you know, my, uh... my partner and I own La Grand Baguette up on Main.

You should come by some time.

Okay.

Yeah, I'll hook you up with some muffins.

Okay. Thank you for that.

Nice to meet you.

(engine starting)

Okay, you drive.

I'll give directions.

Ow.

Serena? Serena?

(gasps)

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Serena.

Help me.

Are you okay?

Help me.

Oh, Serena.

(breathing deeply)

Deeks?

(breathing loudly)

(gasping for air)

Deeks, Serena's down. She' shaving some sort of seizure.

You want an ambulance?

(gasping for air)

I think she's been poisoned.

Serena? Serena, who is your handler?

Alex... Vasnev.

Here.

Here? Your handler is here?

Alex Vasnev. Where?

Serena? Serena!

DEEKS: Kensi?

Kensi!

We lost her, Deeks.

Kensi, get out of there now!

There's no record of Alex Vasnev ever living in the neighborhood.

Well, if Vasnev is the Russian handler, he's probably living under an alias.

CALLEN: Or she is. Alex could also be a woman.

We need a log of everyone coming in and out of the neighborhood, as well as everyone's movements inside.

Yeah. Eric's already going through the surveillance footage up in Ops.

What do we do about her body?

HETTY: We leave her.

There's nothing that can be done for that poor woman now.

Best to maintain our cover and keep Serena's house under surveillance.

And if the handler lives in the neighborhood, Kensi and Deeks will find him or her.

Where are they now?

Back at their cover house.

You two gentlemen need to find out why Arkady lied about Serena Miller.

DEEK: She chose her life just like we do.

Yeah, but all she wanted was a family.

I actually thought I'd hate it here.

A family, kids running around, happily married couple thing.

It's actually kind of comforting.

And it is nice to have someone to say good night to at the end of the day.

What's happening here?

Hmm?

Kensi Blye going all soft on me?

No.

Next thing you know, you're gonna want little kids running around.

Little mutant ninja assassins.

Hey.

What? I'm just saying that, you know, for the record, if that's something you want to do, I could help with that from a technical standpoint.

'Cause I am the husband, which means that I have parts of my body that are able...

Mom!

He's gonna need therapy.

Visitors?

Sam...

(muffled screaming)

Federal agents!

(g*nshots)

Aah!

Drop your w*apon.

(panting, coughing)

How many times have I told you not to lie to me?

(laughs)

How many times do I have to lie for you not to believe me?

It was not really lie.

I didn't know her.

(coughs)

(speaking Russian)

You done?

(grunts)

There, I'm done.

Serena's father was friend.

She wanted out.

He asked me to help.

What did you do to help?

I put out word to my contacts.

Her handler must have found out.

Alex Vasnev?

I don't know.

This is not lie.

I don't know who he is or how he found out.

They work for him.

Ask them.

Polina, wh-what...

What happened?

Serena was found dead.

No one knows what happened.

Oh, my God.

I know, it's terrible.

Apparently, Chewie got off his leash and then ran into the garage where the body was.

(sighs) Really puts a damper on our dinner.

Yeah, it's not exactly the greatest of timing.

Well, come anyways.

It will help take our mind off all this.

Brett and I are looking forward to it.

Yeah, no, of course we're gonna come anyways to the... yeah.

Okay, see you guys at seven.

Does she model?

I think Eric said that she was a model.

Yeah, cause that walk is all kinds of fantastic.

There's Hobbs.

I'm gonna go see if he liked my cookies.

Yeah, good luck with that.

Excuse me.

Yeah?

Can you tell me why you pointed a g*n at my son today?

(laughs)

Excuse me.

You have some nerve accusing my husband of something like that.

Now, I don't mean to imply that your son has a wild imagination, but he may have been chasing some very scary cowboys and Indians with his slingshot when he shattered our bay window.

Cody, is this true?

Cody?

DEEKS: Cody.

(chuckles)

I'm sorry.

I'll write you a check.

He said there was a g*n.

Gas lighter for the barbeque.

Grilling up some ostrich burgers.

Mmm.

You are so grounded.

Missed Hobbs again.

Any luck on the guys at Arkady's house?

Uh, yeah, we got a positive ID on both.

First up is Sergei Dobrev.

He's 25 years old, here illegally on an expired student visa.

Several known connections to the Russian mob.

And Vasily Ikashev, 28, big time mob enforcer.

Long list of arrests and misdemeanors.

Any clue who they worked for?

Not yet, and no connections to Mikhail Kroyov or Serena Miller.

But we did find Vasily's address.

He has an apartment in Hollywood.

What's with Deeks?

He's, uh, picking up Wi-Fi signals so we can snake the neighbor's Internet connections.

Is that a fanny pack?

Yeah, he said something about being Method.

Okay, all right.

DEEKS: Eric, tell me you got what you need.

Let's go check out that address.

'Cause I've run up and down this street, like, ten times.

The neighbors are gonna think I'm man-orexic.

Hey, Justin.

Yeah, I'm picking up the last signal now.

Hey.

I want you to meet Rob.

Okay.

So, your the neighbor Bob won't shut up about.

I'm Rob.

Hi, nice to...

I've been meaning to-to come by the bakery, but...

Ooh, just you luck.

I have samples.

You got to try these.

Pomegranate macaroons.

Chock-full of antioxidants, so they're good for you.

You want me to try one of the samples right now?

Okay.

Something tells me he doesn't eat a lot of sweets.

(sighs) I swear I had a waistline before we opened our bakery.

Didn't we all?

You know, we would love to have you and your wife over for game night.

It's just, you know, Charades, Trivial Pursuit, Twister.

Stop.

Twister, no, that's, um...

Yeah, that's an idea, but I got to warn you that, uh, Melissa's pretty competitive, tends to get pretty vicious, so...

Oh, well you tell her to bring it.

And bring her appetite because I am going to make my dulce de leche cheesecake.

You will die.

I'll look forward to that, but listen, nice to see you again.

High fives across the...

See you later.

(dance music plays loudly)

Sweetie, I'm home.

Are we having a dance party?

Melissa!

(music stops)

Melissa!

♪ ♪

(gasps)

Oh, my God!

What are you doing?

What am I doing?

What are you doing?

You got techno blaring, there's blood running through the entire house.

It's like an episode of Dexter in here.

I cut my foot on some glass, and oh, my God, what are you wearing?

No, don't change the subject.

I thought something happened to you.

Is that a fanny pack?

No, it's a bro-sack.

Don't do that.

Don't scare me like that.

Fine.

Fine.

(zipper noise)

What?

I'm in a towel.

I can see that.

And you've seen too much, so could you just leave, please?

Want me to take a look at your foot?

No, I don't; I want you to go away.

I'm sensing a little hostility here; you want to talk about it?

You sense correctly.

Now, some privacy please?

And-and take that off.

All right.

(gasps)

Oh, my God, not your pants.

What? Oh, my bad.

Thought you wanted me to take my pants off.

I can't believe you just did that.

I'll see you later.

Walking away, but doing it slow enough so you can come after me.

Want a little bit of this action?

That's so wrong, I'm not even looking Come and get it.

I'm not even...

I'm not even looking.

I see you peeking.

I'm...

Go away!

SAM: So, Serena Miller wants out of the spy game.

Calls her dad for help.

He then calls Arkady to pull some strings.

Mysterious handler gets wind of it, sends his boys Sergei and Vasily to take out Arkady.

Serena's been a spy for over a decade.

Her handler wouldn't want to lose such a valuable asset.

Vasily sure lived in a dump.

I got something here.

AK-47s, Makarov pistols...

Standard Russian issue.

It's time to tear this place apart.

Hey, any word from Kensi or Deeks?

Uh, ah, they're at dinner with Brett and Polina.

So, got you a little something.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

46 Years of Football Highlights..

I read on your profile that you love football trivia, so...

Okay, my sister wrote my entire page, and she put some stuff in there that she thought guys would like.

So, you're really not into buffalo-wing-eating contests?

Mm-mm.

Wrestling?

Or, uh, football?

What is the Super Bowl?

Okay.

KENSI: You sure you don't need any help?

No, it's all good.

A couple more minutes, and we'll be ready to eat.

Okay.

Go have a drink, relax.

BRETT: My mojitos are the best.

Trick is to muddle the mint before you add the rum.

Sweetheart?

Cheers to new friends and neighbors.

KENSI: Cheers.

Cheers.

Mmm, ooh.

(coughs)

Hope it's not too strong.

No. (laughs)

So, tell me, how did you two first meet?

That's a cliché story.

We met at a gym.

Actually, it was an MMA gym in Chicago.

It was.

Wow, mixed martial arts.

I am impressed.

No, you shouldn't be, really; I joined with a girlfriend because she said it was a great way to meet guys, and I think I, um, I went twice, including the time I met Justin.

Mmm, so who made the first move?

DEEKS: Actually, our trainers introduced us.

Mm-hmm.

Oh.

But he was playing Mr. Tough Guy, weren't you?

I was just very into my workout.

Right.

So I gave my number to someone else to make him jealous.

(laughs softly)

But...

I knew it was meant to be the moment I saw him.

Here's a million dollar question.

Do you remember what he was wearing?

White T-shirt, red shorts, black socks.

Wow, that's actually quite impressive.

And Melissa-- what was she wearing?

Are you trying to get me in trouble?

There's no possible way that I could remember that.

Black t*nk top, jeans, bag that goes across your shoulder, hair down, wavy.

Oh, you guys are too cute.

Mostly her.

So when did you first know she was the one?

(timer dinging)

Oh, thank you for that.

Saved by the bell.

POLINA: Honey, why don't you take Melissa into the dining room?

Of course.

Maybe you can give me a hand with the food?

What's that perfume you're wearing?

KENSI: It's my favorite Chanel.

(clears throat)

All right.

You've never played an instrument before?

No.

You have great hands for it.

Thank you.

POLINA: Who needs another cocktail?

KENSI: Uh, I'm okay, actually.

It's not like you're driving.

Sweetie, we need another round.

How about a red from the cellar.

Mmm. I'll get the glasses.

I can't get a read on them.

I can tell you one thing-- that Polina's got fantastic taste, because she really wants a piece of your hubby.

Yeah, well, if my hubby weren't so self-absorbed, he would've noticed Brett's hands all over me.

Did you see the shoulder rubbing with the hand thing?

Are you trying to make me jealous?

No, I'm just saying that they're trying to throw us off our game.

You really think one of them is the handler?

Well, they are pushing the booze and asking us a whole lot of personal questions.

That's true, and every time we ask them something, they do change the subject.

Exactly.

(closes drawer)

Why are you staring at me?

We're supposed to be married.

Husband's don't stare at their wives.

Just trying to figure out where you hid your g*n.

Can you do it without staring?

You are carrying, right?

Of course I am...

Then where are you carrying?

BRETT: I guarantee you will love this wine.

Oh.

Brett, we've got a couple of lovebirds in here.

BRETT: That's the spirit.

(nervous chuckling)

Sorry.

I don't know what came over me.

It must've been the cocktail.

Ah, you're a lucky man, Justin.

She's a real live one.

Yeah, no, my, uh, Aunt Hetty definitely warned me about her.

Can't find anything connecting them to Serena or Mikhail.

G...

They've been made.

A little top up?

Oh, no, no. Otherwise I'll never make it home.

(chuckles softly)

That's the point.

(phone ringing)

That's my phone.

I better get that.

You know, if it's important, they'll leave a message.

(ringing continues)

So, Justin, tell me about your work.

You're an artist?

That's fascinating.

I love artists.

Do you?

'Cause that's really...

Yeah, it's actually not that exciting.

But what is exciting is you and Brett.

How did he propose?

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, I almost forgot.

(cork popping, Kensi gasps)

A little trick I learned down in Costa Rica.

He's been practicing for weeks.

Save the champagne for dessert, sweetie.

Let's give them the grand tour.

Lead the way, honey.

Let's start with the basement, darling.

(phone buzzing) Brett's got more tools than Home Depot.

I swear he would just spend his whole weekend down there if I'd let him.

KENSI: Boys and their toys.

POLINA: Mmm.

After you.

POLINA: Come on, guys.

BRETT: It started out as a wine cellar, and then I decided just to go all out.

It's totally soundproof, which is important in this neighborhood, if you know what I mean.

You two wait right here.

I've got a surprise for you.

Kens.

Ready?

Really?

Go.

Federal agents.

Raise your...

Hands.

Oh...

Role-playing.

Huh? Attaboy.

(growls lustily)

I was thinking we...

Quiet. I don't want to know what you were thinking.

Actually, I would like to know what you were thinking.

I mean, mostly out of professional curiosity.

I can read it in the report.

BRETT: So, does this mean we're being charged with something?

Um...

Yes.

You are charged with undercooking the chicken.

I'm not feeling very well.

I'm going to go home.

Listen, Brett, you do some good work.

I mean, this is some fine, fine, fine craftsmanship.

As much as I would like to stay, 'cause I really would like to...

Stay. I see you.

(growls lustily)

KENSI: Deeks.

It's a pet name.

Rhymes with "freaks."

Rain check.

Wait, aren't you going to handcuff us or something?

Deeks!

Justin?

(sighs)

Okay, we need to talk about that.

You think?

Who has a sex dungeon in their house?

Seriously, who has the room?

I'm not talking about that.

I'm talking about the kiss.

The cover kiss?

That's interesting tactic for a cover.

It worked, didn't it?

Yeah, well...

Actually, what I want to know is how you were two seconds away from being Polina's whipping boy.

I can think of a worse way to spend a Tuesday evening.

What?

Kensi's private time needs a little spicing up, does it?

Hey, if you knew about Kensi private time, your head would explode.

Okay.

I can be sexy and wild.

Of course you can.

I can.

Okay.

You don't believe me?

All right, fine.

I'm going to tell you a little story, but no judging.

No judging.

Okay, so my friend Monica and I, we met this guy over spring break, and we both liked him, we didn't think it was fair to make him choose between us, so we...

(metallic clicking)

Did you hear something?

No, I think you should keep going.

Okay.

Anyway, she was really, really pretty and she had a body to...

DEEKS: Look out! Get down! Down!

Oh, yeah, we've definitely been made.

Came from your one o'clock.

(car alarm blaring)

It's Rob and Bob.

I should've known.

Their macaroons sucked-- no way they're gay.

Cover me.

Yeah. Ready?

One, two, three.

Go! Go!

Go!

(g*n fires twice)

In here!

Quick!

Cover me.

One, two, three.

Go.

Your cookies were great.

I'm Detective Deeks, LAPD.

This is Special Agent Kensi Blye, NCIS.

Just stay down, stay away from the windows.

DEEKS: We'll take it from here, sir.

Deeks, kitchen.

Drop your weapons.

Drop them, now!

(Hobbs cries out)

On your knees.

Put your hands up.

Put them up!

Clear.

Clear.

Really?

Bra holster?

Really? Furry handcuffs?

Little gift from our friends.

Get up.

Floyd Hobbs, real name Alexander Vasnev.

According to records, he's lived in that gated community since the '80s and helped new agents assimilate into the country.

Born a spy, die a spy.

We know what spooked him?

Probably Kroyov.

Hobbs would have already known someone was coming for him.

And we were the new kids on the block.

Maybe Rob and Bob saw me leave Serena's.

Don't b*at yourself up, Mr. Deeks.

Hobbs probably had you marked the moment you put on that bro-bag.

(laughs)

Go home.

Sleep.

Preferably in your own beds.

CALLEN: Good night.

KENSI: Night.

(Deeks clears throat)

So, you and Monica met a guy...

I do not want to talk about this now.

Maybe it would be cathartic.

Good night, Deeks.

No, come on.

Night, hubby.

Wifey?

Light of my life?

Sugar bear?

HETTY: Oh, Mr. Deeks.

About those handcuffs.